I'm a poor nurse. . The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. “I wondered. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. ‘That’s just it. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. "What's the matter?" he cried. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door.
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